


Watch Me

by ladybonehollows



Category: The Tarot Sequence - K.D. Edwards
Genre: Blow Jobs, Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28819803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybonehollows/pseuds/ladybonehollows
Summary: Anton had almost lost himself once more when a rustle of silk against skin pulled at his attention. He didn't look up from the painting, the tip of the paintbrush dancing across Mayan's bicep. "One would think that the most painted man in the world would know how to sit still," he said mildly.Anton is painting Mayan once more. Mayan has other ideas.
Relationships: Mayan Saint Joshua/Lord Tower | Anton Saint Joshua
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4
Collections: TTS Rare Pair Extravaganza 2021





	Watch Me

**Author's Note:**

> For the TTS server's Rare Pair event!
> 
> Thanks to Sam for the beta and Vivi for encouraging me to write a new pairing <3

Dipping his brush into the paint, Anton considered the canvas before him for a moment more before looking past it to the model stretched out on the bed.

He usually preferred to paint in sunlight, or at least a well lit room, but there were benefits to this, too. The candles strewn around the bedroom created a delight of shadows against dark skin. A tray of candles sat on the bedside table, illuminating black eyelashes against smooth cheeks, the relaxed line of a sharp jaw, the pleased tilt of full lips.

Anton let his eyes drift lower, lingering for a moment on the definition in his Companion's chest and stomach, the thick muscle of his thigh. Mayan's knee was bent, his foot flat on the mattress, his leg hiding anything more interesting, but Anton wasn't complaining. This was a view that he would never grow tired of. One he would immortalise on canvas again and again, no matter how many years passed.

Satisfied, he turned back to the half finished painting, dipping his paintbrush again for good measure. A warm thrum of amusement ran through the bond between them, and although he didn't bother to hide his smile, he kept his eyes on the painting. He didn't care that Mayan had caught him watching him. What else was this exercise for, if not to enjoy the vision of every inch of him?

More amusement, this time touched with a deep satisfaction that reminded Anton just how much his Companion enjoyed being watched.

A few minutes passed in silence, as the canvas grew darker with colour and the bond between them relaxed into a languid, familiar ease. Anton had almost lost himself once more when a rustle of silk against skin pulled at his attention. He didn't look up from the painting, the tip of the paintbrush dancing across Mayan's bicep. "One would think that the most painted man in the world would know how to sit still," he said mildly.

The answering chuckle was quiet, but it still filled the room and Anton's heart. "One would think that the man who'd painted him would know what he looked like by now."

He fought the smile, but didn't try to hide the warmth of his amusement from Mayan. He could posture all he wanted, but his memories were full of nights and days spent mapping each others' bodies. When hundreds of years were spent with a person, no one else could know every inch of their skin as well.

His silent laughter was met with something new, a blossoming of desire and satisfaction through the bond. It was only then that he realised that he’d felt the beginnings of that hunger for the last few minutes at least, and it was just now growing strong enough to decipher. He looked up and — yes, wasn't surprised to see Mayan's leg now stretched out flat on the bed, and his long fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking his length in slow, lazy movements.

Even so, the sight of it caused his breath to catch and his fingers to tighten slightly on his brush, his only outward reaction. Mayan's slow smile told him that he'd felt very clearly the more visceral response through the bond. "You should join me," he said as he leaned forward, his voice just one touch deeper than a conversational tone.

That would be too easy. Particularly when Mayan showed such disregard for his instructions. It was part of the game — Anton was in charge, until he wasn't. "I like watching you," he said, adopting a clinical air as he looked Mayan over, paintbrush poised.

"Watch, then."

With not an ounce of shame, Mayan reclined back onto the pillows bunched beneath his shoulders, spreading his legs fractionally as he relaxed. His eyelids fluttered shut as he continued to jerk himself off, clearly not in any hurry.

Anton turned pointedly back to the painting, but all too soon his eyes were drawn back to the rhythmic movement of Mayan's hand as it stroked the length of his cock, pausing every few seconds to thumb at the head or brush his fingers over his balls. He appeared completely lost in himself with no regard for Anton, and it grew increasingly harder to feign any kind of disinterest. The intensity of Mayan's sole focus was intoxicating, his dedication to his own pleasure a heady thing.

The sudden surge of arousal through the bond stole Anton's breath and caused his fingers to tremble — just the barest amount, but enough to be caught if Mayan were paying him the slightest attention. Anton was helpless in the face of the bond flung wide open. He could feel Mayan's fingers against his skin as though it was his own, could feel the resulting shiver that tore through him. The satisfaction of knowing that he was affecting Anton. The knowledge that only a few more minutes of this would be enough.

With careful, measured movements, Anton wiped off his paintbrush and set it aside. Standing, he pulled slowly at the tie of his robe until it fell open, the silk hanging from his shoulders as he approached his lover. His bare feet sank into lush carpets with every footstep, but nothing would feel as good as the miles of skin laid out before him. His eyes were hungry as he stopped at the edge of the bed.

"I thought you were watching," Mayan said without opening his eyes. After so long together, he doesn't need physical senses to know where Anton was in the room.

Anton couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips, but he could turn it into something smug, an answer to the challenge, whether Mayan's eyes were open to see it or not. "I can watch from here."

"Mmm," Mayan said, and it was as much a sigh of pleasure as it was an agreement.

Lowering himself to sit on the side of the bed, he drank in the way Mayan's hand moved over his length, a little faster now but still unhurried. His own erection tented his pyjama pants, a smear of wetness colouring the fabric obscenely, but he resisted the urge to touch himself.

He wanted to though, fuck he wanted to, when Mayan opened his eyes, dark with hunger as they danced over every inch of Anton's body.

He felt it as Mayan did. The lightning underneath his skin that made him sharply draw in his breath. The thunder in his blood that caused his teeth to sink into his lower lip. Mayan's eyes slid shut again, and when his lips parted in a gasp, Anton didn't stop himself from closing the distance between them and pressing his lips against his open mouth. Mayan's silence dissolved into a moan that Anton swallowed greedily, tugging at his soft lips with his own.

And then it was the slightest tensing of muscles, the barest arching of his back. Anton felt every moment of Mayan's long and lazy orgasm, causing a shudder to roll through him as he tried to keep himself under control. He wasn’t sure when his hand had slipped into Mayan’s hair, but it tightened now, tugging at his dreadlocks. He wasn’t sure whether the groan came from him or Mayan, but he was already teetering on the edge himself.

"Come here," Mayan said, before either of them had the chance to recover. His right hand left smears of his pleasure on Anton’s pants as it slipped inside them, sliding over his hip to cup his ass, his fingers pressing gently into his skin. The other cupped the back of his head, and Anton went gladly as Mayan pulled him down onto his back, his breath hitching as he crawled on top of him. The familiar weight of his Companion’s body flush against him warmed his heart as much as his blood, but it was gone again as Mayan broke the kiss, pushing back to kneel above him.

The view was almost worth the lack of Mayan’s hard body against him. He hadn't softened yet, and Anton had the barest moment to contemplate wrapping his lips around his cock to taste him before Mayan slid further down his body, and it became clear exactly where that thought had come from.

When Mayan lowered his head over Anton’s crotch, covering his clothed erection with his mouth, he could feel the heat of it through the silk. Anton threw his head back with a groan, but he could only bear it for a moment before his eyes were drawn down again. They locked onto Mayan’s when he lifted his head, and Anton was breathless as his lips twitched into a smirk. 

"Are you watching?" he taunted, as he pulled Anton’s pants down just far enough to free his dick, and then took him into his mouth.

His world trembled as Mayan sucked lightly for a few seconds before pulling back far enough to lick at the head. It was so good, it was too good, he was so worked up. His hand found the back of Mayan’s head, his fingers twisting in his locs, but Mayan got the hint before he could push or tug or find his words. Sucking him harder, he sank down over him, taking as much of him as he could and any last shreds of Anton’s self restraint with him. "Gods, Mayan," he gasped.

The feel of Mayan’s smile around his dick as he slowly pulled back almost did him in.

And then Mayan took him in deep again and hummed around him, taking as much from Anton's pleasure as he had from his own, and it was that that sent him over the edge. Mayan’s hands moved quickly, one grasping his hip to hold him still while the other clutched at Anton’s searching hand. Twisting their fingers together tightly, Anton squeezed his eyes shut, losing himself in the heat of Mayan’s wet mouth and the electricity that sparked across his skin. His hips tried to lift off the bed but Mayan kept him still, holding him steady as he fell apart underneath him.

He barely heard the thunderclap outside, an echo of the cry that fell from his lips.

When he came back to himself, Mayan was crawling back up the bed to lie over him, holding himself up with his forearms on either side of Anton's head. Mayan's thick arms boxed him in, and he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. At some point, Mayan had removed his pyjama pants, and the robe still hanging from his shoulders didn't cover an inch of skin between them.

Anton relished the feeling of their bodies pressed together as Mayan bent his head to kiss him, their mouths moving together with the ease and joy of long practice. He would never, ever grow tired of the taste of him. Mayan's knuckles brushed his cheek as he smiled into the kiss.

"I'm sorry, my lord," Mayan murmured against his lips, his tone the furthest thing from regretful. "Did I distract you?"

Anton hummed, tracing a finger along Mayan's hairline when he pulled back. His dark eyes glittered at him as his fingertip mapped the line of his jaw. "You'll have to pose for me again so I can finish it," he said.

They both ignored the fact that he could conjure every detail of his body with his eyes closed. Mayan's hips shifted against his, just slightly, just enough to make him sigh. "I'm sure we can arrange that."


End file.
